West Bank Campus a Dystopian Shelter for Palestinians Uprooted Again

A man walks between empty student residences used by displaced families as shelters at the Arab American University outside Jenin, in the occupied West Bank. John WESSELS / AFP
A man walks between empty student residences used by displaced families as shelters at the Arab American University outside Jenin, in the occupied West Bank. John WESSELS / AFP
TT

West Bank Campus a Dystopian Shelter for Palestinians Uprooted Again

A man walks between empty student residences used by displaced families as shelters at the Arab American University outside Jenin, in the occupied West Bank. John WESSELS / AFP
A man walks between empty student residences used by displaced families as shelters at the Arab American University outside Jenin, in the occupied West Bank. John WESSELS / AFP

On deserted university grounds in the occupied West Bank, Palestinian children run outside nearly empty buildings, their playground after being driven from their homes by a major Israeli "counter-terrorism" operation.
Between a stadium and flower fields where goats now graze, the children play to escape boredom. They have no school to go to since the Israeli military ordered residents to leave the Jenin refugee camp more than two months ago, said AFP.
Mohammed Shalabi, a 53-year-old father who is among several hundred Palestinians sheltering at the university campus in Jenin city, recalled the day he heard that special Israeli forces were inside the camp.
"Everyone knows that when the army enters, it destroys the infrastructure, even the cars," said the municipal worker.
Tens of thousands of Palestinians have been displaced from the northern West Bank since Israel launched the offensive dubbed "Iron Wall" on January 21 in the area.
Shalabi first left Jenin camp for nearby villages before authorities offered accommodation at the now vacant premises of the Arab American University, one of the leading institutions in the West Bank.
Shalabi said he has avoided "discussing all of this" with his 80-year-old father to protect his fragile health.
"But he understands, and sometimes he cries, because he lived through the Nakba, and now this..." said Shalabi, referring to the mass displacement of Palestinians in the war that accompanied Israel's creation in 1948.
No return
Now forced to leave their homes in the Jenin refugee camp, residents fear a repeat of the collective trauma they inherited.
The United Nations agency supporting Palestinian refugees, UNRWA, provides aid but recent Israeli legislation barring coordination with Israeli military authorities has complicated its work.
The cash-strapped Palestinian Authority, which has partial administrative control in the West Bank, lacks the funds to help.
Many international organizations are already focusing much of their efforts in the Gaza Strip, a separate Palestinian territory where the Israel-Hamas war since October 2023 has created a dire humanitarian crisis.
"No one is interested in what's happening here," said a social worker who often visits the displacement shelter at the university to hand out blankets, food or grocery money.
Public services like rubbish collection are rare or virtually non-existent. Many displaced residents have asked for a temporary school to be set up for the children but to no avail.
Most shops are closed, and the nearest supermarket is a 20-minute walk away.
All the while, Israeli army bulldozers operate in the Jenin camp, leaving behind a trail of destruction.
"They told us we no longer have a home, and that we won't be returning to the camp," said displaced resident Umm Majd.
Some camp residents who attempted to go back say they were turned away.
In early March, an UNRWA official spoke of growing concerns that "the reality being created on the ground aligns with the vision of annexation of the West Bank."
'Day by day'
The new, makeshift camp has come into being on the university campus in what appears like a dystopian landscape.
The campus buildings carry names that give them an international and prestigious air, like Casa Bella and Concorde.
But many of them, not long ago busy with students, are abandoned.
Others have become home to families of the displaced who now cram into tiny studio apartments that served as campus housing.
The families cook on gas stoves and sleep on foam mattresses that have to be put away every morning to create space.
"We have 20 percent of the life we had in the camp," said Umm Majd, sharing a two-person room with three others.
Farmers bring goats to graze in fields around the campus.
Many of the students that used to fill the university halls and dorms before the Gaza war were Palestinian citizens of Israel, who generally stopped crossing into the West Bank for their studies.
Eateries in the area are either closed down or being refurbished, the sign of economic hardships across the West Bank that have worsened throughout the Gaza war.
"We live day by day. There's no outlook because of the lack of work and resources," said Ahmad Abu Jos, 30.
His baby boy Mustafa is learning to walk in the tiny apartment space, filled with the smell of detergents and cooking.
The boy's mother, Rama Abu Jos, said: "We left the camp, but not of our own free will. We hope to return home. No one likes life here."



Settler Attacks Push Palestinians to Abandon West Bank Village

Men load a truck with their belongings in Maghayer al-Deir, east of Ramallah in the occupied West Bank © JOHN WESSELS / AFP
Men load a truck with their belongings in Maghayer al-Deir, east of Ramallah in the occupied West Bank © JOHN WESSELS / AFP
TT

Settler Attacks Push Palestinians to Abandon West Bank Village

Men load a truck with their belongings in Maghayer al-Deir, east of Ramallah in the occupied West Bank © JOHN WESSELS / AFP
Men load a truck with their belongings in Maghayer al-Deir, east of Ramallah in the occupied West Bank © JOHN WESSELS / AFP

Palestinian residents of Maghayer al-Deir in the occupied West Bank told AFP on Thursday that they had begun packing their belonging and preparing to leave the village following repeated attacks by Israeli settlers.

Yusef Malihat, a resident of the tiny village east of Ramallah, told AFP his community had decided to leave because its members felt powerless in the face of the settler violence.

"No one provides us with protection at all," he said, a keffiyeh scarf protecting his head from the sun as he loaded a pickup truck with chain-link fencing previously used to pen up sheep and goats.

"They demolished the houses and threatened us with expulsion and killing," he said, as a group of settlers looked on from a new outpost a few hundred meters away.

The West Bank is home to about three million Palestinians, but also some 500,000 Israelis living in settlements that are considered illegal under international law.

Settlement outposts, built informally and sometimes overnight, are considered illegal under Israeli law too, although enforcement is relatively rare.

The Israeli military told AFP it was "looking into" the legality of the outpost at Maghayer al-Deir.

"It's very sad, what's happening now... even for an outpost," said Itamar Greenberg, an Israeli peace activist present at Maghayer al-Deir on Thursday.

"It's a new outpost 60 meters from the last house of the community, and on Sunday one settler told me that in one month, the Bedouins will not be here, but it (happened much) more quickly," he told AFP.

The Palestinian Authority's Colonization and Wall Resistance Commission denounced Maghayer al-Deir's displacement, describing it as being the result of the "terrorism of the settler militias".

It said in a statement that a similar fate had befallen 29 other Bedouin communities, whose small size and isolation in rural areas make them more vulnerable.

In the area east of Ramallah, where hills slope down towards the Jordan Valley, Maghayer al-Deir was one of the last remaining communities after the residents of several others were recently displaced.

Its 124 residents will now be dispersed to other nearby areas.

Malihat told AFP some would go to the Christian village of Taybeh just over 10 kilometers (six miles) away, and others to Ramallah.

Uncertain they would be able to return, the families loaded all they could fit in their trucks, including furniture, irrigation pipes and bales of hay.